


All the right words.

by wordsinthedark (VanScritto)



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanScritto/pseuds/wordsinthedark
Summary: "The yellow looks shit on you."Daniel has chosen Renault over Redbull, yellow over red. And Max has a hard time dealing with it.





	All the right words.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeraparker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeraparker/gifts), [higgsbosonblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgsbosonblues/gifts).



> Okay, so, truth be told, I have no idea what I'm doing.  
> As always, zeraparker got me into this mess and then there was this idea and I couldn't *not* write it, because it basically wrote itself and all other projects don't want to be written, it appears.  
> Also, higgsbosonblues wrote really good Dan/Max fic and it made me not dislike Max as much as I did at first.  
> Enjoy.

"The yellow looks shit on you."

Max watches the figure at the end of the hallway slow down and then stop. The words hang in the air between them and he does his best to school his features and prepare himself for when the person turns around, but when he does, Max is thrown off again.

"And hello to you, too, mate." Dan grins. He grins and fucking waves to Max and this is not at all how this was supposed to go. Or maybe it is, because Dan's full attention is now on him, unlike the weeks before when Max would only catch glimpses of Dan from afar. Dan had not even looked in his direction then, but now he's looking directly at Max and it makes his blood boil.

His head probably looks like a fucking tomato now, he just knows it.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbles back.

Dan's apartment is at the end of the hall and he's already passed the door to Max', so Max really has no reason to catch up to him. He could just open his front door and leave Dan grinning in the hallway like the absolute asshole he is. It would serve him right to be ignored by Max.

He's standing right in front of his apartment now, keys in hand. Really, Max has no idea why he even called out for Dan, he has no idea what to say or do now, either. Fuck, whatever.

"I said the yellow looks shit on you," he says, just in case Dan didn't hear. He lifts his keys and he knows that Dan is watching him unlock his apartment. As he throws Dan a last look, there's a strange look on his face — still all smiles, but the beginning of a frown on his forehead right underneath the curls of his dark hair that seem to have gotten a little longer since they've last seen each other. Max doesn't care. He shouldn't care, he reminds himself.

But that little frown follows him in the back of his mind, even after he's closed his front door.

 

***

 

When Dan had still driven for Redbull, Max always thought that the sparks between them were professional ones. That it was just the two of them, egging each other on and knowing that there could only ever be one driver the team put all their bets on.

Max had wanted it to be himself. He deserved it, he was the youngest driver in F1 at the time. He had _record setter_ written all over him. And Dan had overstayed his welcome with Redbull anyway. Nobody stayed that long with the team — they were either let go or they were traded out. Dan should have been gone a long time ago, Max had reckoned, they shouldn't even have _met_.

They are both stubborn idiots, Christian had said so himself once or twice. And that _edge_ that made them do stupid things sometimes, _dangerous_ things, it had been just that: a fight for number one in the team.

And yet, Max is fighting the same fight now, isn't he? Only now his sparring partner isn't Dan, it's Pierre, and it's not the same fight at all. There's no edge, no sparks when he spots Pierre in the garage and he doesn't feel the urge to yell stupid shit at Pierre the way he does at Dan.

_The yellow looks shit on you._

The yellow absolutely looks shit on Dan. It does, for fucks sake, the guy already has a 3000-watt smile, he doesn't need bright colors like that. They just make it even harder to look at him. Not that Max has the urge to look at Dan.

Okay, maybe he does.

But only so he can see his former teammate flail in his new car with the inferior engine.

"You don't need to worry about Dan anymore," Christian had said just hours ago. Max isn't worried. He just wants to know things. Like why Dan hasn't said a word to him since the start of the season. And what the fuck is going on with Hulkenberg.

The knock on the door makes Max jump. He knows who it is by the way the hairs on his neck rise. He hopes, at least.

"Ice cream?" Dan got changed. It's the first thing Max notices. Instead of his Renault uniform, he's now wearing a blue T-Shirt and black shorts and a pair of slippers that Max knows Dan only puts on at home. He hates that he knows these things.

Dan is also holding a pint of Haagen Dazs.

"I'm not eating an entire tub of ice cream during the season."

"No, you're eating half. Maximum. Probably less, depending on how fast you can spoon. I'm not giving you all of my ice cream, you idiot. What is wrong with you?" He squeezes past Max in a way he's done a thousand times before and Max lets him. Just like that, Dan is in his apartment, standing in the middle of his living room. "What exploded here?"

"Nothing," Max replies a little sheepishly. So maybe the contents of his travel bag are now strewn on the floor and maybe he hadn't gotten around to putting everything away, because he was busy. Busy dissecting how many insults he has to hurl at Dan before that stupid grin disappears.

"There's no ice cream until you clean this up, mate. This looks awful."

"I didn't want your stupid ice cream in the first place, asshole. What are you complaining for?"

"But you want it now, I can tell. Just pick up your dirty underwear or something."

"I'm not going to do that." Dan is not the boss of Max. Dan can go to hell. Dan and his stupid ice cream can— oh shit, is that Vanilla Swiss Almond?

Dan drops down on the couch, grabs a pile of fabric and hauls it at Max. It hits him square in the chest and Max as half a mind to haul it back at Dan just for the fun of it, but … Vanilla Swiss Almond. So he just drops it in the corner of the room and sits down next to Dan.

"You are terrible," Dan says, but he hands Max a spoon — did Dan bring two spoons?

"I have a cleaning lady."

"Who will have a heart attack when she comes in."

"Shut up, asshole, and give me the ice cream."

Dan grins and holds the pint closer to Max, so he can scoop a big spoonful out of the tub. Max stuffs the entire thing into his mouth. It's so good, he has to close his eyes for a moment.

"Mh, fuck, that's good," he moans around the ice cream and when he opens his eyes again, Dan is staring at him, distracted enough that he doesn't even battle Max as he takes another spoonful out of the tub.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself." Dan clears his throat and then turns away to take a bite himself. For a moment, they sit in silence, each enjoying the way this ice cream melts in their mouths.

When Max tries to steal another bite, Dan hits his spoon with his own. And there it is again, that _edge_ that's missing with Pierre. Max lets out a small laugh as he tries again, uses his spoon to push ice cream of Dan's spoon, just to make sure that Dan can't get as big of a bite as Max. Dan pulls the tub away from Max, but Max just scoots closer — he doesn't care if he has to lean over Dan to get to the stupid Haagen Dazs, why is Dan being such an asshole now anyway, he fucking _offered_ they share the ice cream in the first place.

"I missed this," Dan says suddenly and it brings Max back to the reality of their situation. Dan has the tub in his right hand, stretched out as far away from Max as possible and Max is leaned over Dan's lap, one hand balanced on the back of the couch just behind Dan's head and reaching with the other for the tub. He hadn't even noticed that Dan's stopped struggling.

Instead, Dan looks at him now, and their faces are so close together that Max can see the little frown there between Dan's eyebrows. The grin is gone, but he still exudes the same warmth he always has.

Fuck. This. Shit.

Max sits back down, his arms crossed. "This is stupid."

"Like yellow is stupid or a different kind of stupid?"

"Like you leaving stupid," Max blurts out and immediately regrets it. These are not the words he meant to say. But apparently all bets are off now, because when he opens his mouth to make a joke, to take it all back, he instead says: "You _miss_ this? You don't get to miss this. You left, asshole. You wanna eat ice cream or not? Because if not, you can fucking leave."

Wordlessly, Dan reaches over with his other hand and puts the tub in Max' lap, only to make a move to stand up. Shit, that's not what he meant. That's not …

"It's fucked up," he says quietly.

"And it wasn't before?" Dan is close to the door now, but he's facing Max, as if he's still giving Max a chance to turn it all around, to keep him from leaving with just the right words. But Max has never had the right words. Ever.

He's saying things like _yellow looks shit on you_ and it feels better to say that, too, because the alternative is just not in his vocabulary.

"You know if I hadn't left they'd have kicked me out." Dan sighs. Did he take another step towards the door?

"That's not true." But of course it is. Max had known that as much as anyone else on the team. Fuck, Max had _wanted_ that. Max had _wanted_ to win, had wanted to be number one priority, he'd wanted to be the one they all rooted for. He'd wanted this, and now that he has it, he can't shake the bitter aftertaste that all of this brings.

"Of course it is," Dan says, louder this time. "It was either this or me being retired early, those were the options."

"You could have stayed!"

"And have us at each other's throats for another year, trying to kill each other on track?"

It's like a slap, that word out of Dan's mouth, and before he can stop himself, Max is up and pushing Dan against a wall.

"I was _not_ trying to kill you. I would never—"

"I know, I'm sorry." Dan grabs Max' hands where they are fisted in Dan's shirt. "I'm sorry, I know you didn't. It was a stupid thing to say."

Max' skin burns where Dan is touching him, but the way he looks at Max burns even hotter. It's intense, like Dan's entire focus is on him, and Max remembers how, during the early days, Dan would look at him like that, but he was far away then and it didn't matter then. Back then, Dan had just been an _obstacle_ to whatever Max wanted. It's different now, with Dan holding Max' wrists and rubbing his skin gently as if to soothe him. Max doesn't want to be soothed.

"You would have done the same thing," Dan says quietly. "Besides, you won. Aren't you happy?" There's a sheepish grin on Dan's face and Max thinks that Dan _knows_ he's talking shit now. It's not a win if the rules are changed midway through the game.

And Dan didn't just change the rules during their year together, Dan changed the entire fucking game.

If Max were thinking clearly now, he'd know this is a bad idea. But Dan is staring at him and Max can smell the ice cream on his breath and feel his fingers on his skin and it's entirely too much and not enough at the same time. There was a reason they never acted on _this edge_ , but the reason is gone now.

As gone as the distance between them, when Max crashes his mouth to Dan's.

There's a little surprised sound from Dan, and for a terrifying moment Max thinks it's a sign of discontent. But then Dan leans in, the tip of his tongue gently touching Max' upper lip and it's all the permission Max needs.

The kiss is all tongue and teeth, and Max can't remember a first kiss that has ever felt this good. The pit in his stomach that is always there — the pit that kept telling Max that Dan didn't just leave the team, he'd left _him_ — gets a little quieter with each taste of ice cream that Max sucks of Dan's tongue. Dan's grip on Max' wrists loosens and it's a good thing, because Max has no patience for anything right now. Dan is wearing entirely too many clothes, there's so much distance between them. Wherever Dan touches him, Max burns, and Max wants to burn all over. He wants to make Dan fall apart, because maybe then Dan will know how he makes Max feel all of the time. Frayed at the edges, always just one sway away from untangling the web he's so carefully constructed.

"Easy," Dan mumbles against Max' mouth when Max' hands tear at his shirt, pushing it upwards and over Dan's head. He pushes himself off the wall and Max goes willingly only because somewhere in his brain it registers that Dan is leading them towards the bedroom, and as soon as it does, it's Max leading the way, pulling Dan to go faster.

The blinds in Max' bedroom are closed as they always are, letting only a dim light inside. It's a good thing, too, because Max doesn't want to have Dan's eyes on him anymore, doesn't want that intense scrutiny. Dan is always the one in control, the one leaving, the one who doesn't need any of it. Max _needs_ and Max _wants_.

He pushes Dan down onto the bed and uses the brief pause to take off his shirt. He doesn't miss Dan's appreciative looks towards his chest and he's glad he spent so much time at the gym recently. Dan reaches out to pull Max' hips between his thighs and drops a kiss at his belly. It starts out sweet, but soon turns into open-mouthed laps at his skin, up towards Max' nipples that Dan teases with his teeth, only to suck on them a moment later. There are moans in the room that Max belatedly realizes are his own and that pulls him out of the reverie. It's not Dan's lead this time.

Max ducks down to kiss Dan's mouth, bite at his lips and then work his way down towards his neck. He pushes Dan further down on the mattress, so that he's lying down and leaves a wet trail as he licks down Dan's chest, not caring to take the time for teasing. Max wants to make Dan _do_ things and _say_ things.

His hands find Dan's waistband and unceremoniously drag it down with a little help from Dan who lifts up his hips just enough that the shorts are able to fall to his feet.

Dan's dick is already half-hard and there's a distinct smell of arousal that fills Max' nose as he gets closer. It makes his mouth water, knowing what he's about to do. Dan's hand absentmindedly touch his hands and Max moves them out of the way to the side as he gets down on his knees, so his head is at a better height for it.

"Max, are you—" The sentence ends in a moan as Max licks over the crown of Dan's dick. He wraps one hand around the base and catches Dan's eyes. In the dim light of the bedroom, they look almost black and there's a hint of uncertainty there that Max feels great about. He managed to surprise Dan after all, unravel him. He licks over the crown again, watches Dan's face change, his mouth dropping open on another moan. The droplets of precum there taste musky like Dan and sweet like the promise of victory on the last lap of a race.

He can't hide the grin just before he opens his mouth and swallows Dan's dick. Max has to relax his jaw quite a bit to take all of Dan into his mouth, but he manages on the first try. It's been a while since he's done this, mainly because he doesn't trust anyone enough to allow himself into this position. It feels different this time, though, with Dan lying on his bed and making the kinds of helpless noises that tell Max he is the one in control. This time, it's not Max being encouraged to be a good boy, to please someone. It's Max holding all the power over Dan, whose hands are fisting the sheets beside him.

"Fuck, Max, this is …," he gasps when Max sucks. "I'm not gonna …" Another moan. "Max. _Please_." It makes Max shiver, the neediness in Dan's voice, the way his thighs tremble and his hips buck even though he's trying to keep himself together. With the hand not wrapped around Dan's dick, he presses Dan's hips into the mattress to still the movement. Max will set the pace for this, and he very slowly sucks on the crown of Dan's dick.

"Max, geez, what … I wanna … fuck."

"Some other time," Max quips as he comes up and grins at Dan's surprised look. He sets a slow rhythm with his hand, watching all the emotions play out on Dan's face. One of Dan's hands finds Max' on his hip and touches him in a surprisingly gentle manner. This, too, is a battle for control, a staring contest, which Max usually loses but not this time. This time, Dan squeezes his eyes shut under Max' ministrations, in an effort to calm his breaths as long as Max' mouth isn't on him.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" Max asks and it has the intended effect of making Dan's hips buck and his eyes fly open. "You want me to swallow it?"

Dan seems to struggle with the answer, managing only a nod.

"Use your big boy words, Dan." Max grins and when Dan huffs a laugh, he drags the tip of his tongue through the precum of Dan's dick. "Tell me. With words." He revels in the fact that he can make Dan squirm. Make him fall apart.

"Yes," Dan whispers, crooking his legs behind Max' back to keep him in place, "I want to come in your mouth. Fuck."

Max dips his head down to press gentle kisses to Dan's dick. "And?"

"And I want," there's another moan when Max moves down to mouth at Dan's balls, "I want you to swallow. Please."

Dan is so fucking polite even when he's desperate, who knew?

"Okay." Max opens his mouth to swallow Dan's dick again and it doesn't even take a minute before Dan grunts a warning. A shiver runs through his entire body, his hand momentarily squeezing Max' and his hips bucking into Max' mouth as he comes. Max sucks him through it, keeping Dan's cum on his tongue and savoring the taste of it. This is what winning tastes like, Max thinks, when Dan's breaths even out a little and he opens his eyes. Max waits till Dan's focus is back on him before he makes a show of swallowing and licking a stray droplet off his lower lip.

He gets up then, his knees complaining only a little and tucks his pants down to let them fall to the floor. His own dick is almost painfully hard now as he leans over Dan, one hand pressed into the mattress at Dan's side to carry his weight. He watches Dan watching him jerk himself off.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," Dan says and there's nothing but honesty in his voice despite the fact that Max is the one on top, the one in control, the one with the power. He reaches up to stroke Max' jaw, his shoulders and then rises up on his elbows to pull Max into a kiss. Dan's tongue is on Max', licking and sucking and probably tasting himself there, and Max loses it then, a silent curse on his lips, as he shoots his cum onto Dan's stomach. Dan keeps stroking him, his arms, his sides, his back, pulling Max down next to him and never breaking the kiss.

It still burns wherever their skin touches, Dan's warmth seeping into Max, but the _need_ is gone for now. It simmers just underneath the surface, though, sure to come back.

"I didn't leave you," Dan murmurs after a while.

"I didn't say you did." Max tries to turn away, but Dan is holding onto him with strong hands and looking at him seriously. There's that focus again, all of Dan's attention on Max, reading every movement of his face.

"You didn't. I just wanted you to know."

Max _does_ know that, of course, but it's still nice to hear. There are so many things that suddenly come back to his mind, like _what the fuck did we just do_ and _please don't leave me again_ , but he doesn't want to think about any of it, he certainly doesn't want to _say_ anything, what with his history of always saying the wrong thing, but then again they're naked and Dan still has his cum on his skin and the words come out before he can stop himself. "You should go take a shower."


End file.
